


Like Animals

by ElvenSemi



Series: Inspiration [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chases, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I don't even know how to tag this, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSemi/pseuds/ElvenSemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan runs rather than face an angry Solas, and the chase that ensues ends in a lesson on why you never run from a predator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Animals

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. I'M FINALLY POSTING SMUT. GOOD JOB GUYS. 
> 
> This takes place canonically much later than most of my work in Inspiration but since I'm focusing so much on Keeping Secrets I figured it was only fair that I go ahead and post it rather than continue to sit on it and blush. The inspiration for this was Animals by Maroon 5 and I definitely recommend giving it a listen.

Part of being the Inquisitor meant making choices that would inevitably piss off _someone,_ no matter what. She had never really gotten used to it, and after an awkward and heartbreaking conversation with Varric about why, exactly, she had left Hawke to die in the Fade, she never wanted to make a decision like that again. 

Too bad that sort of thing was inevitable. 

This was extra frustrating for her, because in her mind, it was _not_ a decision that anyone should be angry at her for. Even so, Cassandra was not speaking to her, and half of her friends were giving her the coldest shoulder she had ever received. 

And so, the second she saw Solas walking towards the throne, his face an angry storm, she bolted. Down the Great Hall and out the front door, not even waiting for the guards to remove Blackwall’s cuffs. That was a whole big pile of “nope” that she did _not_ want to deal with right then. 

It probably looked very bad, for the Inquisitor to be racing out of Skyhold as if there were a demon army hot on her heels. But in fairness, she would prefer the demon army. Solas could destroy her with a disapproving frown; she was not prepared for a lecture. She bolted out into the night chill, charging through the raised gate to the surprised looks of the merchants bringing in cargo. She sprinted across the long bridge and towards the tree cover. Only when she had a little bit of distance between herself and Skyhold did she stop to look back, balancing on one leg as she tore off useless shemlen shoes. 

Maybe he hadn’t run after her. Was he really the kind of person to chase her across Skyhold and into the woods? Heh… Yeah, that would be kind of ridic-OH GOD HE WAS ON THE BRIDGE AND HE STILL LOOKED PISSED. 

She took off again, legs feeling lighter now that she was free of the heavy boots. Thank the Creators that she was used to running in snow, although there was nothing she could do about the footprints she would leave. Solas had once told her he was more than twice her age, and it was cold out here. Distance would be her friend; eventually he would use up all his anger chasing her, surely. 

-

First, he had come to pull her aside, scold her for childishness. He was not accustomed to the Inquisitor doing things that displeased him; in fact, she had never before ignored his direct council. She rarely even made snap decisions that upset him in any large amount. 

Until she had decided to risk it all for a liar, rightly arrested by Orlais. Even worse, she had refused to use underworld connections to keep it quiet. All for some fool of a man! 

Solas often forgot how young Lavellan was, but this reminded him that she was a scant two decades of age. This was a child’s mistake, and he meant to teach her better. 

But then she saw him coming and _darted out into the woods like a spooked rabbit!_ He was flabbergasted, his confusion giving her a head start out of the gate. It was Varric’s snorting laughter that snapped him out of it. 

“Wow, did you see that?” the dwarf guffawed. “Damn, Chuckles, she did _not_ want to hear what you had to say!”

Oh, she would hear him, alright. Out the gates he’d gone after her, into the freshly falling snow. 

-

After a while longer spent fleeing, she slowed, ducking behind a tree and listening to the sounds the mountains and forest had to offer. Wolves howled in the distance, and she urged them to be quiet. She had nothing to fear from wolves, but she needed silence. For a moment, she heard nothing but her own heavy breaths. And then… a twig snapped. 

She was off like an arrow, darting between trees. Some place small, she thought to herself, not even fully aware of why she was still running, other than really not wanting to see how mad Solas was that he would chase her through the woods. That was something… Yeah, no, she did not want to see that. The last time he’d been angry at her for running off into the woods (creators, she was developing a tendency, wasn’t she?), he had grabbed her shoulders and physically SHAKEN her. No, none of that. She needed distance. 

Solas could climb trees as well as she, so that was useless, but he was comparatively broad and tall, whereas she could charitably be compared to a twig, if the twig had fallen from a tree whose growth was stunted. She ran towards where the trees were thicker. Open plains would be her downfall, but she could go between trees faster than a large elven man, surely. 

-

First, it had been disbelief that moved him forward, sent him rushing into the dark woods. Why would she run from him? Then anger; she would not face the consequences of her actions, and it was out of character for her. Later, worry, anxiety tinged with fear; how far did she plan to run? He moved with focus, eyes on her tracks in the snow. She wasn’t using any magic, but the mark on her hand was the magical equivalent of a searchlight. Even without the tracks, he would likely have been able to follow her. 

Still, she was moving fast, darting between trees and bouncing off of roots or swinging from low branches when she could to minimize her foot prints. His heart pounded in his chest as he ran in an easy gait along her trail, cold air sharp against the heat of his body. She would go for some place narrow, the one advantage she might think she had on him. He bit his lower lip, aware excitement and adrenaline were growing, displacing his anger and disappointment, filling him with a new purpose for chasing her down. 

Solas loved a good chase, and his vhenan, as it turned out, was very good at running. 

-

Lavellan could swear the wolves were getting closer. It would worry her, if she did not have more pressing concerns. Still, the excited howling distracted her, made it hard for her to listen for her quiet pursuer. Trying to hear an elf’s footsteps in the snow seemed the set up to a bad Dalish joke, but it was her reality. 

She saw a flash in the trees. A wolf? Or Solas? Or something else, perhaps? She had wandered through these hills and found little danger, and Leliana’s scouts kept it mostly clean. Solas was likely the most dangerous thing out here. She’d rather be caught by the wolves. 

Her leg hit a patch of too-soft snow and she sank up to her shin, throwing her off balance. She sprawled out onto the snow, quickly twisting to try and right herself. Something human shaped, behind that tree! She scrambled back to her feet, half running on all fours as she caught her traction again and bounded off, darting into a patch of evergreens in an attempt to lose her pursuer. 

-

She really was good at running. If it hadn’t been for the way her magic permeated the ground, he might have lost her several times as she sprung into trees, leaping from branch to branch to avoid leaving footprints. Her trail dragged him through thickly grown evergreens, whose needles poked and stung at his skin as he pushed through where she had easily slipped. Every time he nearly caught up, she seemed to gain an extra burst of speed, catapulting herself away, springing over icy rocks that he had to stop and carefully climb, lest he slip. He had once laughed at her insistence on climbing small mountains to grasp at magical shards, but now it seemed that practice was serving her well. 

But he had her now. There were no thick trees for her to dart between, no low hanging branches. He could see her back, fleeing in front of him. His heart leapt into his throat as he reached out-

-

Her heart thudded in her ears. She was getting chilled, bare feet in the snow, wind whipping across bare shoulders. A cave, to hide in. Narrow entrance. Something hard to climb into, something to keep the wind out. 

She had, in a way, forgotten why she was running. Oh, she remembered, but it seemed unimportant. Her breath was light, and alongside the adrenaline and fear there was a confusing tingling. She had loathed being chased down by the Envy Demon, been disgusted by the feeling of being hunted through her own mind. But this… there was fear, but it was a playful fear. She wanted to escape Solas’ wrath, but if he caught her, she would receive little but a scolding. Despite that knowledge, however, she wanted to keep running, find a place to hide, make him dig through the snow covered hills. Like a child’s game, but she didn’t feel like a child. 

There, a cave! Narrow entrance, she would have to get down on her stomach to crawl through. Solas would never be able to slip his broad shoulders through the tiny gap. Hopefully it was free of giant spiders. 

She dropped to her stomach, shimmying into the tiny gap, when she felt a hand wrap around her ankle. Instinctively, she shrieked, her scream echoing through the mountains as she was slowly but surely dragged backwards out of the cave. The hand on her ankle released, and she flipped, her scream trailing into panicked laughter as she saw that it was just Solas, after all, his breath leaving steam in the air between them. 

His hand came down by her shoulder, his other hand grabbed her firmly by the chin as he leaned in, lowering himself over her. “Why are you laughing, vhenan? I caught you.” 

That gave her pause. His eyes were dilated, and there was a hunger in them, as if he had been hunting his dinner, not his Inquisitor. His body was so hot it seemed to burn where he grabbed her; she had been near frozen, running through the snow, excitement keeping her from noticing how chilled she had become. 

“Now you’ve caught me,” she agreed breathlessly. “What now? Will you eat me alive, hungry wolf?” 

She had expected derisive laughter, a joke to calm both of their pounding hearts. Instead, the tension seemed to rise another level. He almost seemed to be considering it as a suggestion. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, and his lips were on hers. Her eyes widened in shock; he was rarely the one to initiate this sort of contact. 

But he seemed intent on devouring her after all, his hungry kiss stealing her breath, forcing her lips to part with his tongue. He sucked her lip into his mouth and bit down, no gentle nibble, but a bite. The whimper that escaped her seemed only to encourage him. 

His hand stroked down her neck, deft fingers pausing at her collar to begin quick work on the many hooks that held her top closed. His mouth finally left hers, only to move to her neck, sucking, then nibbling, then biting, teeth threatening flesh. 

Her mouth finally free, she sought to question him. “H-hahren?” she breathed, her voice coming out as a whisper, as though he had stolen all the air from her lungs, all the force from her words. The sound teased a groan out him, and he bit down on her neck, hard enough to make her cry out, her confusion momentarily lost in sensation. She was unsure as to the cause of Solas’ unusual behavior, but she had grown accustomed to not mentioning odd indulgences. A hand would linger far too long on her rear as he boosted her up to reach a ledge she couldn’t climb, her mouth would stay firmly closed. She would pretend to sleep as morning arousal slid gently between cheeks. Solas was a bit of a letch, and she kept her mouth shut about it. Apparently long runs through the woods aroused him. She would keep her mouth shut about that, as well. 

Hands along the top of her breasts brought her back into the moment. She gasped as he lost patience with her shirt, ripping the last few hooks loose. 

“I should run from you more often,” she said, the end of her sentence trailing into a moan as his teeth nipped against her ear. 

“Don’t run,” he breathed into her ear, voice heavy with a lust that was unfamiliar to her. “You could never escape me.” 

At the very least, her plan to have him run until anger left him had succeeded. The thought flittered randomly through her mind, only to be chased out as his mouth found her breast, tracing a circle around her nipple with his tongue. The wetness burned in the cold, and she shuddered, her arms wrapping around his neck. 

Every part of him was like fire and ice, heat then chill dancing across her where his lips caressed her. She felt dizzy with it, fear replaced with a hunger of her own as her hands ran over his shoulders, regretting that he remained clothed while she lay with her shirt torn open. Then, his hand traced around her waistband, and everything else flew from her mind. His hand shadowed down her front as he moved up to kiss her again, hunger still unabated. She took her opportunity as he moved himself over her, reaching down to run her hands down the bulge of his pants. She must have startled him; a groan that almost turned into a growl escaped him to rumble against her throat. 

He pulled back slightly, and grasped onto her wrist, shaking his head and tsking gently, and she felt the disobedient da’len despite the playfulness in his eyes. 

“Not yet,” he whispered, bringing himself back on top of her, not releasing her wrist, but instead pinning it above her head, his other hand resuming its explorations, tickling along her pelvis. She squirmed, and he seemed to enjoy seeing it, catching her mouth in another kiss, tender and starving. 

Then his hand, suddenly seeming cold as ice, whispered across her slit, and she arched into him as if she’d been electrocuted, gasping and then whining into his mouth, eliciting from him a low chuckle. He rubbed long fingers against her, slowly easing her lips open. He moved back slightly, breaking off their kiss, and circled a finger around her clit. Her eyes flew open with shock, and she met his gaze, her eyes trailing down across the wicked grin on his face. It was a face she rarely got to see. She often felt like a trebuchet, firing flirtations at his walls until they cracked. But with this as the end result, every frustrating moment was absolutely, completely, deliciously worth it. 

Whatever she had unleashed in him, she hoped he never got it back under control. 

An icy finger slipped into her warmth, and she cried out again, out of shock as much as anything. Fingers slid around inside her as a thumb traced against her clit. As dizzy with arousal as she was, she did not recognize the magic until warmth flooded her, leaving her tingling all over, as if her whole body had been asleep and was just waking up. 

“M-more,” she begged as Solas worked his fingers slowly in and out of her. 

“Oh?” he said, his voice low. “Are you sure you can handle more?” 

“P-pleeeeaase,” her voice cracking into a whine despite herself. 

Solas let out a groan of his own, and before she realized his hand had vanished from between her legs, he was yanking down her pants, tearing them off and tossing them behind him into the snow. One hand grabbed a leg, pushing it up and to the side, the other spread her open, and Solas was upon her, tongue sliding teasingly along the full length of her slit. She felt her breath leave her, and she thought it might never come back. She lost herself in the sensations, the discomfort of a naked rear against snow utterly forgotten as he truly sought to devour her. 

She gasped and groaned around him, hands finding his head and clutching, nails digging in when he dragged his lips across her clit. A finger joined his tongue, pushing her open. She bucked against him, nerves abandoned for lust. The cold night air seemed to disappear as a second digit joined the first, curving inside her as if he was literally urging her to come. Sparks flared under her flesh, and a scream rolled through the hills a second time as she clamped down around his hand, nails pressing harder into his scalp, clawing desperately as she pushed and writhed against him. Unable to keep her magic under control, but not wishing to hurt him, she let it escape through her scream, flaring fire straight up. It danced between her lips, twining with her voice, flashing light like a strobe over their intertwined bodies. 

Lavallen’s dual release soothed her. Her hands relaxed, her body falling back into the snow as her orgasm faded. Slowly, a sense of awareness found her, and she realized she was naked in the snow, in the mountains, at night, and despite whatever spell Solas had used, she was getting very, _very_ cold. She leaned up, and Solas removed himself from between her legs, coming up to meet her in a kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, and she had to admit, she liked it. She wasn’t sure why any of it had happened, but what was that shemlen saying about looking gift horses in the mouth…? 

When he broke the kiss, and she gazed into his eyes, the hunger she had seen earlier was gone, back, hidden behind a wall again, and he was beginning to look mildly concerned. He wasn’t alone; she winced when she saw the cuts on his head. She traced over them with healing magic, apologetically. He caught her hand and laughed. 

“Healing me? Vhenan, you should see yourself. I’m afraid I’ve made a mess of you.” 

In more ways than one, she thought to herself. “I’m fine, emma lath. In fact, I doubt I’ve ever been better.” A wind cut through the trees just then, chilling her to the bone. “Although admittedly, perhaps next time you could accost me by a fire?” 

“I was not the one to run into the forest in the middle of the night, vhenan,” he scolded, but there was no bite to it. She would no doubt receive the lecture later, but it wouldn’t be shouty. Embarrassingly, she loathed people shouting at her. It was a secret she kept clutched tightly to her chest. Most people simply though she had a temper, since she would inevitably react harshly to someone who raised their voice or attempted to intimidate her. It would do the Inquisition no good if all the broad nobles of Thedas suddenly learned they could frighten the Inquisitor with a loud sound. 

“I’m sorry I ran,” she said, deciding to pre-empt the lecture somewhat. “Your face scared me. I could see Falon’Din in your shadow, and I wasn’t ready to die,” she added with a teasing flick at the tip of one of his ears. 

Solas seemed almost to choke on his laughter. She loved the sound. There was little she would not do to tease a laugh out of him. 

“Ma vhenan, you are ridiculous.” He took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh, regaining his composure. Lavellan pouted; that inevitably meant that her fun was over. “We should get you dressed… oh.” 

She followed his gaze down her front, and remembered that he had indeed ripped her shirt open. Half of the hooks were missing entirely. Her pants lay some distance away, half buried from the snow still falling from the sky. They were, of course, damp. Lavellan sighed. He was all restraint until he wasn’t, and then she was stuck with wet pants and half a shirt. She hopped into the snow dampened pants, wincing as they stuck to her flesh. The wind whipped through them. It almost felt as if she was wearing LESS clothing, now that she was damp. She attempted to do up her shirt, but had little luck with it. 

Solas draped his vest over her, using his belt to tie it shut in the front. It was ridiculous to look at, but it at least kept her bits covered. 

“If anyone asks,” she decided. “We will tell them I was ravaged by a pack of wolves, and you valiantly saved me.” 

She hadn’t expected him to laugh as loud or as hard has he did, peals of glee bouncing through the mountains until it seemed the hills themselves joined in his frivolity. When he finally regained his composure, wiping at a watering eye, his response did not sate her curiosity at what he found so humorous. 

“Not a soul in the Inquisition will believe that a wolf could do you harm, vhenan.”


End file.
